


Imperfection and Absolution

by cherryandmapletrees



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Billy!Archie, Bisexual!Cheryl, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Horror, Murder, Psycopaths, Scream AU, Syd!Cheryl, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryandmapletrees/pseuds/cherryandmapletrees
Summary: Cheryl Blossom -- Daughter of tragically murdered socialite Penelope BlossomArchie Andrews -- Star quarterback of Riverdale HighBetty Cooper -- Tabloid reporterJughead Jones -- Homicide detectiveA year after the tragic and violent death of Penelope Blossom, Cheryl's life becomes something straight out of a horror movie once again when she receives a phone call from an unknown number and is nearly killed by a masked person in her home. With her boyfriend as the prime suspect, her life is in upheaval, but she seems oddly unbothered by everything. Well known tabloid reporter Betty Cooper and homicide detective Jughead Jones form a tense alliance to find out the story, bt what they find out will rock the small town of Riverdale to its core.ORThe "Scream" AU no one asked for





	Imperfection and Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! My beloved spooky time is here and so I decided it was the perfect time to release the Scream AU I've been working on for like... a long time. 
> 
> Please keep in mind, this is based off the horror movie Scream, so if horror and murder isn't your thing, kindly abstain. 
> 
> And a huge thank you as always to my wonderful beta, shrugheadjonesthethird! Love you <3
> 
> Please enjoy!! ~Izzy

Normally on a Sunday, Toni would be out with her friends or boyfriend. But with the rainy weather and Fangs having a guys night, she decided a night in watching horror classics would suffice. Of course, with the school year having just begun, she had work piling up, but she figured it could wait until another night. 

She sighed heavily as she locked the front door of her small house in Riverdale, the dark clouds making her feel uneasy as she opted to close the curtains as well. Growing up in the Southside she was used to sleepless nights, but something about tonight told her to take extra precautions. 

She made a quick round through the house, checking to make sure all the doors were locked and the windows closed. Satisfied, she moved to the kitchen and pulled out a stovetop popcorn, craving the salty, buttery taste. 

She'd just set it on the stove and turned the stove on when her phone rang from the living room. She sighed again, her hand on the stove dial, and turned away to answer the call. 

The number wasn't one she recognized, but she picked up and held the phone to her ear, thinking it was probably Fangs, having gotten himself drunk with his friends, calling from one of their phones. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi there.” The voice sounded slightly distorted, but was still somewhat familiar, something in the cadence of the words that she couldn’t place. 

“Who is this?” The voice laughed, and Toni couldn't help the shiver of fear that slipped down her spine. 

“You'll find out soon enough.”

“What the hell do you want?” Annoyance was starting to replace the fear in her blood, and she almost hung up the phone. Whoever was on the other end spoke again before she could. 

“Just to talk. Do you know who I am?” 

“Alright, that's enough. Fangs, if you got drunk and you're screwing with me, cut it out.” Laughter sounded on the other end, sinister and distorted. 

“You guessed wrong, Antoinette. Shame, I was looking forward to playing a game with you. Guess your little boyfriend has to pay the price now. I hope you said a proper goodbye last time you saw him.” Terror shot through her again and she hung up the phone quickly. 

Toni swiped rapidly through her contacts, her fingers shaking so badly that she hit the wrong name twice before she finally managed to select her boyfriend. She hit the green call button, bouncing on her toes as it rang. And as it continued to ring. And as she got his voicemail. 

Her blood froze in her veins and she hit call again, fear curling in the pit of her stomach and creeping up her chest, wrapping around her ribcage and squeezing.

The line clicked open this time after six rings, and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 

“Fangs, baby. Are you okay?” 

“Sorry, Antoinette. He can't talk right now.” The same voice, distorted and manic, was on her boyfriend's phone, and she almost dropped to the ground. Her mind reeled, trying to keep her fear for Fangs at bay.

The phone slipped from her hand, clattering to the ground. She vaguely heard another laugh and an ominous  _ I'll see you soon, Antoinette  _ before the line went dead. Toni launched up from the ground, ignoring the scent of scorched popcorn as she grabbed her keys, running for her car. 

The back door of her car was open, and in the back of her mind, she knew what she was going to find. That didn't stop the scream that tore from her throat as soon as she saw Fangs, ripped open from his throat down, sprawled across the backseat, blood dripping onto the ground. 

She turned on her heel to run without a destination in mind. She just knew that she needed to be away from the car.

Her cry of terror froze in her throat as she came face to face with a person in a mask and long, tattered black robe. The mask was terrifying, white and narrow, with sunken eyes and a mouth stretched into a wide, toothless scream. 

She barely had time to begin to scream again before silver flashed in the moonlight, the blade in the hand of the masked killer held high before he buried it in the center of her chest. 

She was dead for hours by the time her family found her body, swinging from the tree in her front yard, her eyes still open and glassy, her mouth still in a silent scream of terror. She was slit open from her throat down, her blood still dripping onto the ground.

\--

When Cheryl arrived at school on Monday, she was on edge. Reporters flooded the area out front, coating the campus with cameras and vans and wires and microphones. The people behind said microphones didn’t care about the students, only the story. All of them were reporting the same news that day, as the double slaying rocked Riverdale more than any crime the town had ever seen. 

Two Riverdale High seniors, Antoinette Topaz and Fangs Fogarty, had been brutally murdered the night before. 

Cheryl had managed to avoid the all reporters except for one, Betty Cooper, the annoyingly perky tabloid reporter. 

She hated Betty Cooper. She was by far one of the worst tabloid reporters around, scouring Riverdale for dirt on innocent residents to make a living. Cheryl had always thought Betty was annoying, but when the Blossom matriarch died and Betty jumped at the chance to uncover all the dirt behind the story, Cheryl’s hatred towards the young reporter became personal. 

Cheryl had thought that the years of abuse and torture at her mother's hand would never end, until one night when she woke up to noise downstairs: scuffling and scraping, a heavy thump. Emerging from her room, she saw her mother's body lying in the parlor, blood pooling on the ground. 

It had been a gruesome murder, shocking the small, quiet town of Riverdale. Her mother's blood had covered the already red walls of the Blossom estate, and Cheryl hadn't even screamed when she saw the sight. She'd hidden beneath the mantle of the grieving daughter, using her mother's death as a shield from the questions. She'd had no intentions of telling the world of her dead mother's abuse, and the controversy surrounding Penelope's death had been enough to stop any questions. 

Cheryl had always been good at hiding the bruises, and now she didn't have to anymore. The year since her mother's death had been difficult, but not nearly as hard as everyone expected it to be for her. She hadn’t been as broken over her mother’s murder as everyone thought she was. But she would never, ever tell anyone the reason why.

“Cheryl!” Her best friend, Veronica Jones, ran up behind her, and threw her arm around Cheryl's shoulders. 

“Hey, V.” 

“Can you believe it? I swear, sometimes this town is turning into some Wes Craven creation. Next thing you know we'll all be seeing monsters in our dreams.” Cheryl rolled her eyes at her friend's dramatics, walking with her toward the lockers. 

“What happened?” 

“You didn't hear? Toni Topaz and Fangs Fogarty were murdered last night. He was slit open from the throat down and she was found hanging from a tree, sliced open the same way. The reporters are all abuzz today; Riverdale hasn't seen a crime like this since — well, you know.” 

Cheryl nodded tensely, avoiding Veronica's eyes. 

“Toni Topaz, huh? She sat next to me in Chemistry.” 

Cheryl felt arms wrap around her from behind and twitched slightly. Years of being afraid of contact were still buried deep in her psyche, making her uncomfortable with touches she couldn't see coming. 

“Easy, baby, it's just me.” Her boyfriend, Archie, hugged her to him again before releasing her, turning her to face him. 

“Sorry. I guess I'm just a little on edge with all this talk of murder.” 

“Understandable. Everyone's a little on edge after that. I feel so bad for their poor families.” Cheryl smiled up at him and slid her arms around his neck, pulling him close to press a soft kiss to his lips. 

“We all do. I just hope this is the end of it.”

“I'm sure it is, baby.” His arm slid around her shoulder as they walked to chemistry, Veronica tailing behind them. 

“Cher, did you hear they're questioning pretty much the entire school? They think it was one of us.” Cheryl rolled her eyes, leaning into Archie.

“Of course they are. They seriously think a teenager could have pulled this off? Along with the three hours of homework we’re averaging a night?”

“I doubt a killer cares very much about chemistry homework, baby.”

“Speaking of chemistry homework… You think they'll still make us turn it in? Or will they give a speech about how we should reflect on our lives, make sure to tell our loved ones that we love them?” Veronica shot Cheryl a look of disapproval with Cheryl’s dark humor and rolled her eyes when Cheryl shrugged. 

“Here's hoping.” Archie joked quietly as they moved through the classroom door, Cheryl’s eyes drawn to the empty desk next to the one she normally sat at. 

She glanced over at the desk every few minutes, the eraser of her pencil tapping a fast, nervous pattern on the surface of her textbook as she tried to focus on the teacher, giving the expected speech about how short life was. She was still buried in her thoughts when the sound of her name snapped her out of her head. 

“Ms. Blossom?” Her head turned towards the front, her eyes focusing on the teacher.

“Sorry, sir. Yes?”

“You’re needed in the principal’s office. Seems it’s your turn with the police.” She stood slowly, Archie squeezing her hand as she moved toward the front.

She almost wanted to laugh at the idea, the police suspecting her of the murders. Her, the girl whose mother had been murdered almost a year ago. The girl who still couldn’t go places without looks of concern shot her way, whispers of  _ that poor girl _ following her wherever she went.

She knew what she’d see when she walked into the principal's office, but their looks of sympathy still caused bile to rise in her throat. 

She didn’t want their pity. She didn’t need it. She _hated _it. 

Cheryl lowered her head slightly, curving her shoulders in a little. She shrank down, playing the part of the grieving student, thrown back into the memories of her mother’s death by the murders of her classmates.

“Good morning, Ms. Blossom. I apologize for this, but… it’s a formality. We have to interview everyone in the school.”

“I understand, Sheriff Keller.” She brushed her hair over her shoulder, breathing in deeply as she looked up at the sheriff. 

“How did you know Ms. Topaz and Mr. Fogarty?” 

“I sat next to Toni in chemistry class and Fangs was her boyfriend, but that's all I know of them.” 

“And where were you last night at the time of the murders? Around 10?”

“I was just at home, doing my homework. My dad was getting ready to leave for his trip, so I stayed in to spend time with him.” 

Sheriff Keller nodded, exchanging a glance with the other officer with him, who shrugged and nodded. 

“You can go ahead and go, Ms. Blossom. That's all we needed from you. Have a good day.” Cheryl nodded and left the room, breathing a heavy sigh of relief when the door clicked shut behind her and straightening again, her posture impeccable.

By the time lunch rolled around, the atmosphere surrounding the school was a strange mix of grief and annoyance with the police presence. 

Outside under one of the trees in the courtyard, Archie lounged behind Cheryl, his fingers trailing along her hip as hers combed through his hair. 

“Did they ask you if you liked to hunt, Arch?” Veronica's boyfriend Moose spoke up, smirking slightly. 

Archie nodded an affirmative, grumbling under his breath. 

“Why would they ask if you like to hunt, baby? What does that have to do with anything?” 

Moose laughed, leaning back for a moment. 

“Fogarty was slit open from his throat down. Topaz was too, and she was hanging from a tree. Police think that means whoever did it hunts a lot.”

“Yeah, cuz that makes total sense. A teenager who hunts and likes to murder people in the free time between math and English homework.” Veronica raised her eyebrows at Cheryl's dark tone, but the redhead ignored her and smiled at their friend Kevin Keller as he joined them for lunch. 

“You should have someone with you tonight, Cheryl. Out at that old house, all alone. What if I stayed with you? Since your dad is gone?”

“What, Ronnie? You don't think my girl is tough enough to stay by herself?” Archie teased, leaning up to kiss Cheryl just behind her ear. She turned her head to meet his lips with hers, ignoring Moose's exaggerated groan. 

“No, genius. All things considered, I just don't want her to be alone.” Cheryl smiled at Veronica, grateful for her friend's concern. 

“Sure, V. I'd be glad to have you over with me.”

“Excellent. I'll swing by your place around seven? I can stop by the video store after volleyball practice and pick up some horror movies.” She could almost sense Archie rolling his eyes behind her. 

“Don't you know that's just asking to be killed? Watching a horror movie?” They all turned to look at him, expressions ranging between amusement on Cheryl's face, irritation on Veronica's, a grin on Moose's, and boredom on Kevin's. “Come on, Kev. You’d know, working at the video store. And you do happen to be one of the school’s resident experts on horror movies. You know all the tropes.”

Cheryl smacked Archie’s arm, glaring down at him. 

“Leave Kevin alone.”

“Yeah, baby, leave Kevin alone.” Moose laughed, his voice absurdly high as he mocked Cheryl, making kissing sounds with his mouth.

“Moose, stop it. That’s rude.” A sharp reprimand from Veronica shut him up, and Cheryl could feel Archie sit up behind her, his arm sliding around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“For once I agree with Veronica,” Archie said. “It’s called tact, asshole.” 

“Come on, dude. It was a joke.”

“A joke in poor taste.” Cheryl felt Archie nod against her shoulder as she chimed in again, silently agreeing with her. One of his hands lifted to run through her hair, and she leaned into his touch, sighing softly and closing her eyes.

“Or Archie could stay with you if you’d rather.” She caught the slight edge of bitterness in Veronica’s tone and opened her eyes enough to see her friend watching them with a half amused, half bitter expression.

“Can’t. I’ve got a lot of homework piling up. Moose and I will probably end up at my house after a while and study most of the night. No reason you two scholars would need to be tied down with us.” Cheryl smiled at Archie, turning her head to press her lips to his again before she moved to stand, his fingers trailing down her back as she did. 

“I'm gonna go head in. I'll see you at seven, Ronnie?” 

“Of course, girl. See you.” 

She waved to the group as she left, Archie's eyes following her the whole way. 

\--

Cheryl yawned widely as she unlocked her front door, dropping her bag just inside. She hadn't slept well the night before and it was catching up to her now. 

She made her normal rounds, checking the locks on all the windows and making sure the doors were dead bolted. 

Just because she hadn't cared about her mother's death didn't mean that she was willing to die herself. Ever since that night almost a year ago, she'd been meticulous about locks. 

She yawned again, pausing in the kitchen and looking at the coffee pot, chewing her lip pensively. On one hand, she could make some coffee that would keep her awake, but on the other… well, it was only four. She had three hours until Veronica had said she would show up. Decision made, she walked into the living room, not wanting to go all the way upstairs just to take a quick nap. 

The next thing she knew her phone was ringing, jerking her out of her deep sleep. She fumbled for a moment before grabbing it, swiping to answer the call after she saw Ronnie's contact photo on the screen. 

“Hey, V. It's after seven. Everything OK?” 

“Yeah. Sorry, Cher. Practice ran long and Moose needed me for something. I’m on my way to the video store now.”

“I’m sure Moose’s great need had absolutely nothing to do with you showing up to his place in your practice uniform? You’ve told me how much he likes when you wear those shorts around him.” Cheryl teased her friend, ruffling her fingers through her hair as she sat up, phone still held to her ear.

“Very funny. I really am sorry, Bombshell. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“See you soon, Ronnie.” Cheryl dropped the phone beside her on the couch, rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes.

Her phone rang again, and she lifted it without opening her eyes, swiping to accept the call.

“V, I don’t care what movies you pick, just come on over.”

“Hello, Cheryl.” The voice wasn’t the one she expected, male and gravely instead of feminine and soft.

She pulled the phone away from her ear to look at the number, and saw the words  _ Unknown Number  _ staring back at her.

“Who is this?”

“You tell me. Shouldn’t you recognize me?” She sighed, her fingers tensing around her phone.

“No one I know sounds like they gargle razor blades on a regular basis, so no.” The person on the other end laughed slightly, the quiet huff of sound sending a shiver down her spine. 

“Fair enough. Bit of a scary evening, isn’t it? What with those awful murders last night, it’s almost like we’re in a horror movie of some sort.” Kevin, that son of a bitch. He was always trying to scare her, and it irritated her to no end.

“Kevin? Seriously? This kind of stunt wasn’t funny the first five times you tried it and it’s not funny now.”

“Do you like scary movies, Cheryl?”

“Kev, just drop it. You know I don’t watch those. They’re grossly overrated, sexist, outdated, and overall just cheesy.” She sighed heavily as he spoke again, the sigh turning into a groan as she dropped her head back.

“Are you alone in the house, Cheryl?”

“Jesus, Kevin could you be any more cliche? Honestly, I’m disappointed in you, I thought you were better than this.”

“Maybe it’s because  _ I’m not Kevin. _ ” Her mouth opened a few times as she struggled to figure out what to say, her mind trying to figure out the cadence that seemed so familiar, the answer fluttering just at the edges of her brain.

“So who are you?”

“The question you’re asking shouldn’t be who I am. It should be  _ where I am _ .”

“So where are you?” She wasn’t scared, not like she assumed she should be. Mostly… intrigued. Curious at the person trying so hard to torment her.

“Your front porch. Lovely roses out here by the way. Classic Blossom red.” Her body moved toward the front door of its own volition, barely taking the care to stay out of sight of the ornately-carved glass windows inlaid into the heavy oak of the door.

“Why would you be calling me from my front porch?”

“Ah, that’s where the non-cliche part comes in.”

“You know what? I’m calling your bluff, you bastard.” Any logical person would have hung up the phone, locked the door tight, and hidden safely until help arrived. 

Cheryl however, unlocked the door and stepped into the cool night air, a breeze whispering across her skin as she looked around, no sight of anyone near her house. “So where are you?” A mocking lilt was in her voice, but her eyes kept scanning the bushes, looking for any signs of movement.

“ _ Right here. _ ” She walked from one end of the porch to the other, seeing no signs of intrusion. She rolled her eyes and sighed, a plan forming in her head. 

“Can you see me right now?”

“Uh huh.” 

She grabbed her hair in the hand not holding the phone and twisted it into a bun on the top of her head, turning in a circle.

“What I am doing? Huh? What am I doing?” Dead silence on the other end of the line was all she heard, and she laughed, releasing her hair to tumble down around her shoulders again as she moved back towards her front door. “Nice try, Kevin. Bye now.”

“ _ If you hang up on me now you’ll die just like your mother! _ ” The voice snarled, no longer the emotionless tone it had been. It gave her pause, apprehension settling in her stomach. “Do you want to die, Cheryl? Your mother sure didn’t.” Anger rose in her throat, surging in her blood.

“Fuck you, you son of a bitch.” She hung up the phone, storming back inside the house and slamming the door, relishing the rattle of the windows. 

She turned to walk into the kitchen, her throat closing on a scream as the door to the coat closet swung open, revealing someone in a long black robe and an eerie white mask that reminded her of the Edvard Munch painting hanging in the living room, the mouth gaping open.

Her mind had just enough time to register the silver gleam of a knife before the masked person came for her, swinging the blade in a deadly arc. She ducked fast enough to avoid it and swung her foot out, catching the back of the knee and watching as whoever it was collapsed to the ground. 

A hand lashed out as she tried to run, catching her ankle and sending her crashing to the ground, her head slamming into the marble. She shook her head, trying to clear the dizziness that settled behind her eyes.

Another glint of silver snapped her back into her senses, and she kicked out with her foot, knocking the intruder over. She scrambled up and ran for the door, yanking it open and racing to the barn, where she kept her archery equipment. She could hear footsteps behind her, but she forced herself to stay facing forward, watching the ground for the tree roots that often scattered Thornhill’s grounds, creating hazards left and right.

She made it to the barn without tripping, and as soon as her hand closed around the familiar curves of her bow, her heartbeat seemed to calm. She notched an arrow and turned, taking only a moment to aim before letting it fly in the direction of the cloaked figure. It landed right where she’d aimed it, of course, directly in the right arm. A sudden cry of pain, somehow  _ familiar _ , was all she heard before the figure stopped running towards her, instead opting for the woods. 

Still gripping her bow, she debated going after them, but decided against it. No point in chasing after trouble. Best to just call the police and act the helpless victim again.

Back inside, she moved up the stairs to look out a higher vantage point as she called the police, informing them of what had happened, forcing the sound of terror into her voice. They responded immediately, saying they’d be right over, and she sighed in fake relief, thanking the dispatcher. 

She’d just set the phone down when she yelped, catching sight of someone crawling through her window.

“Easy! It’s just me. The door was locked, and I thought I heard you scream. What’s wrong, baby?” Relief flooded through her, pure and genuine, at the sight of Archie reaching for her, concern written across his face. 

“He was here, Archie. He was in the house. The killer was in my house.” He gathered her into his arms, holding her to him as her breathing finally slowed, the last of the adrenaline fading from her body, leaving her exhausted.

“Sit here for a second okay? I’m going to go get you some water or something.” She nodded and let him sit her down on the edge of her bed, running her fingers through her hair as he left the room.

A chime had her lifting her head, curious. He had left his phone on the desk, and it was lit up with a notification. She stood slowly and made her way over, glancing at the screen.

New text message from: Moose

_ Dude, please tell me you have a first aid kit at your place. I’m going to need it, I got hit pretty bad. _

Suspicion sparked in her mind, and before she really thought about it, she was running down the stairs and out the door, shoving past Archie when he tried to stop her.

The police had moved quickly this time, different from when her mother died, and a patrol car was already outside. In between short gasps, she told them what had happened.

“It was him, Deputy,” she said, pointing at Archie as made his way out of her house. “Moose Mason, too. Investigate the both of them.”

One of the deputies grabbed Archie, pulling the redhead's arms behind his back with a quiet statement that he was just being detained. The other deputy asked her questions, his hand outstretched towards her shoulder as she caught her breath. She knew normally they wouldn’t have immediately grabbed Archie like that, but with the whole town on edge after the recent murders and her being  _ the girl whose mother was brutally murdered _ seemed to have worked in her favor. 

She explained everything to him, keeping her face in an expression of fear as her emotions dulled again, the cold, empty feeling she'd always had swimming inside her returning. At the mention of the text message, his lips tensed, and he jerked his head towards his partner. With a nod, the man led Archie towards the cruiser. Archie called out to her as he was pushed into the backseat, betrayal coloring his tone.

“Cheryl! Cheryl, come on, you know I didn’t do this. Please, baby, I had nothing to do with this. You didn’t have to run away from me. Why would you? Why would you run away from me?” She turned to look at him, her face clear of emotion.

“Isn’t that what normal people do when a murderer is in front of them?” The look of confusion that flickered across his features was enough to satisfy her and she turned away, her face a perfect expression of fear and grief once more.


End file.
